


Temptation Accomplished

by takachan



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), God works in mysterious ways, KINDA christmas-y but not too much, M/M, and so does Aziraphale's brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takachan/pseuds/takachan
Summary: It took six thousand years but Crowley finally wasn't going too fast for Aziraphale (actually, he was welcome to speed up).
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	Temptation Accomplished

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hedoro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedoro/gifts).



> Trust me that I didn't plan to post this at all but I wrote this for one of my best friends, the person that most encouraged me to actually write and gave me so many useful and important tips. This was inspired by all the good omens conversations we’ve had together and I told myself... this will make a decent Christmas present.  
> I am sorry for any mistakes and I hope you will enjoy it.

Friedrich Nietzsche said that there is always some madness in love but always some reason in madness. Aziraphale liked to think that he’d fallen in love precisely in 1941 but he was wrong. It had happened a lot earlier. 

When Aziraphale stood on the ruins of a London church and the ashes of some nazis in 1941, it was just the first time he let himself consider that he might, possibly, be in love. He then proceeded to ignore all of it throughout the following years out of a fierce determination to keep Crowley safe, which was stronger than any affection he might've felt towards the demon - or perhaps it was part of it. Aziraphale knew, deep down in his soul, that he would endure anything for Crowley. He just wasn’t ready to let Crowley do the same.   
  
Despite that or maybe exactly because of it, the madness that love was supposed to contain had begun on the bus ride from Tadfield to London when Aziraphale, quite foolishly, took Crowley’s hand. It wasn’t as if he had never initiated any kind of perfectly accidental brush of his fingers against Crowley’s skin but that’s all he’d ever done on purpose.

To make it worse, Aziraphale’s madness didn’t carry the promised reason. Maybe the world had failed to end after all but Aziraphale had just lost Heaven's favour, lost his bookshop in a fire, had been most likely about to lose himself in some good hellfire too; he’d been unstable and upset and he had grabbed the only thing he couldn’t, for the love of God that he betrayed, afford to lose. Was that enough of a reason? Does one need a reason to hold a hand of the demon that just asked you to live with him?   
  
Yes, probably does, Aziraphale had decided when Crowley’s hand hadn’t moved and Aziraphale had felt the demon’s gaze on him, burning even though it had been coming from behind the sunglasses.   
  
Aziraphale had refused to look back or let go of Crowley’s hand and by the time they’d reached London, Crowley had settled against the bus seat and his thumb had drawn thousands of little circles all over Aziraphale’s palm, stripping the angel of all his fears. 

What it had also done though, was taking the madness of love to a whole new level because once Crowley and Aziraphale had graciously fooled both Heaven and Hell and had won their much-desired, long-awaited freedom, Crowley had decided to hold Aziraphale’s hand too. And he held it often. He had taken the angel’s hand at the Ritz, at the ride to Aziraphale’s saved bookshop, on their next meeting and every single one of their following meetings, successfully driving Aziraphale nuts.   
  
It was never just holding hands. Crowley always waited for the most perfect, most serene moment to reach for Aziraphale’s hand, caress each one of his fingers, lock them together and hold urgently or draw gentle circles around the golden ring. All while still carrying the conversation, both of them stuttering a bit, whispering things they would’ve said either way only now they felt a little bit special.   
  
Crowley had most certainly recognised the bus ride events as permission from Aziraphale, a sign that he was allowed to do this - this loving gesture of affection. And Aziraphale had let him because what else they’ve got to fear now, other than each other’s intentions?

“Angel."

Crowley startled Aziraphale out of his thoughts. 

"What," he blinked and looked away from the car window. Aziraphale was ironically the one watching the road intently, instead of Crowley who’s been watching _him_ intently. “What was it?”

"I asked if you were alright," Crowley repeated. “You’ve barely eaten anything.” 

So perceptive. And pretty, under all the passing street lights. It was unbelievable. And inconsiderate.  
  
Nonsense, Aziraphale sighed. Crowley had always been beautiful. It was Aziraphale who had always looked away. Well, now he couldn’t anymore and it was like discovering something that has been living right under his nose, both known and unknown, both old and new.   
  
It had set a free way to these restless, little, disturbing waves of aching love and weight of a secret he was keeping from his best friend. Aziraphale daily missed the blissful block in his mind that served him to overlook his feelings. At least he had been able to enjoy Crowley's company without constantly expecting to Fall for how badly he would sin if only he could, may Lord forgive him, he would-

"Aziraphale?"

The angel jumped a bit. "Yes. No. I'm just full."

"Full of shit, you mean."

Aziraphale glared. "Pardon?"

"What is going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, shut up," Crowley stared at him. "You're lying."

“Just watch the road!”

Crowley shrugged. “ ‘right then."

Aziraphale looked outside the window again, at the sky that looked like it could finally snow, just like people always wish before Christmas, but it would probably just rain again. He rather focused on Freddie Mercury singing that he _works hard, every day of his life_ and he’s _working until he’s aching his bones_ and _can anybody find him somebody to love?_ and Aziraphale was getting fed up with Queen, honestly. Unlike Crowley's car. Unlike Crowley himself, whose finger has been tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of the Greatest Hits album the whole time.   
  
Did Crowley also like Queen or did he learn to like it because the Bentley gave him no other option? And how did Aziraphale's thoughts end up wrapped around Crowley again? _Good lord._

The Bentley’s roaring went quiet when Crowley parked near his flat. Oh, right. Aziraphale had promised Crowley a drink at his place. 

“Do you still want to come?” Crowley broke the silence and only then Aziraphale realised how unusually quiet their ride really was. 

“Yes! Of course. Actually,” Aziraphale added in an unexpected rush of courage that passed right the next moment, “I want to talk to you.”

“Do you now?” Crowley muttered playfully, stepping out of Bentley but guilty-looking Aziraphale heard him. 

  
  


Halfway through the first bottle and seated on the armchair in Crowley’s living room, Aziraphale still didn’t start the conversation he so desperately tried to have and Crowley didn’t push it. Aziraphale wasn’t used to this relaxed and content side of his best friend. The whole new Crowley, not burdened, not threatened. Crowley that took off the glasses that he used to hide more than his eyes. Crowley that wasn’t in a rush because for once in their existence, he had time and he had freedom.   
  
It was perfect and Aziraphale enjoyed the meaningless chitchat too much to ruin it. He enjoyed watching Crowley all over the sofa, in a position that Aziraphale would never in his life describe as comfortable. He really didn’t want to ruin that. But…

“Dear…”

Crowley watched his glass. “Mm?”

When Aziraphale didn’t reply, Crowley’s eyes found him. “Are you going to tell me why you’re being so weird?”

“Possibly.”

“Alright.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale repeated and Crowley silently and gracefully sat up. Aziraphale had no idea what he even planned to say. “We can die at any moment.” 

Crowley looked aside, as weirded out as he had all rights to be and Aziraphale panicked. “Not like die _die_ but we don’t have all the time in the world, right? I mean, of course, we have the eternity, individually, but we… we as… together… don’t.” 

Crowley didn’t even pretend he wasn’t thoroughly confused. “We _just_ gained all the time in the world back.” 

“And we are wasting it. It can be over tomorrow. Again.” 

Crowley paused. “What is this, post-apocalyptic stress?” 

Aziraphale groaned. “No!”

“Then why are you even thinking of this?”

Crowley’s demanding tone was irritating and the angel jumped out of his seat “Because if I were to lose you, Crowley, I would- “ Aziraphale breathed in, aware that he had already said more than he had meant to and then proceeded in a lighter tone, “I’d be, what you call in your colourful expression, _fucked_. For the lack of a better word.”

Crowley smiled because he knew there was no lack of a better word. Aziraphale just liked to cuss these days - he found it unexpectedly soothing. 

“Not to sin on you or anything but aren’t you more likely to be fucked if you keep me? I mean-” 

Aziraphale spilt some wine on the carpet. “ _May Lord forgive you_.” 

There was a moment of dead silence and then Crowley was laughing - in the heartfelt, sincere, Crowley way - and Aziraphale tried to look at least a little bit horrified.

“That’s, uh,” Crowley was blushing the way Aziraphale was supposed to, “not what I meant.” 

The angel froze. “Oh?”

“I had already gotten you in trouble before, fraternizing and all, like… you know… the arrangement? Yeah," Crowley cleared his throat, "that’s what I meant.” 

“Yes, me too,” Aziraphale said and swiftly emptied the rest of his glass. 

"Mhm," Crowley let out but it wasn't nearly as convincing as Aziraphale needed to let it go. 

And sure enough, it took merely three seconds for the drunk demon to snort into the rest of his wine, “May Lord forgive _you,_ angel.” 

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Crowley!" Aziraphale finally blushed, better late than never.

One last giggle. "Okay."

“All I meant to say was,” Aziraphale added as he refilled their glasses, “things are easily lost, Crowley. And people, especially.”

Crowley was rubbing his chin and Aziraphale noticed with a bit of relief, that Crowley is at least finally trying to understand the issue. He didn't say anything though.

Aziraphale watched him. “What are you thinking of?” 

“Fire,” Crowley said and emptied his newly filled glass like he suddenly needed it more than before. 

Aziraphale sat down next to him, their knees touching but neither of them was very aware of it. “What do y-”

“Anyway,” Crowley interrupted and finally looked at the angel, “to your problem. I only have one question.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t hide the little hint of hesitation in his voice. “Alright?”

Crowley locked his eyes with Aziraphale’s. “Do you really want to spend the rest of our time together wondering when it’s going to end?”

It could’ve been the wine or it could’ve been the words, although it most likely has been Crowley’s beautiful, intense gaze what brought tears into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“No,” the angel whispered and leaned to catch Crowley’s lips in a surprisingly confident but definitely unplanned kiss. It was hard to say who was more shocked at that moment, Crowley or Aziraphale. Probably Aziraphale, as he was the one to pull back immediately after, almost like Crowley’s unresponsive lips had burnt him - and they did in a sense.

Then everything happened in a rush of a few seconds when Aziraphale hastily stood up, missing Crowley’s hand reaching for him.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Aziraphale said in utter horror instead of an apology and left the apartment without his coat, without looking back and without Crowley trying to stop him at all. 

Just like Aziraphale had predicted, it started raining when he was rushing back to his shop but the angel barely noticed it. He passed all the Christmas lights that decorated the street without giving them a single glance and only looked up when he absent-mindedly snapped his fingers to save a young man across the street from getting hit by a bike.  
  
Even when he entered the bookshop and locked the door, his brain was still frozen repeating that one particular question: _What the fuck have you done, Aziraphale?  
_ It may or may not have been the Almighty’s voice in his head. 

Aziraphale sat down on the chair near him and let his head fall in his hands. It’s only been a couple of weeks since the frustration, fear and helplessness of the nearing Armageddon and Aziraphale didn’t feel like he recovered from that. He wasn’t ready to lose Crowley. Not now. Not ever. 

Well, maybe not _lose_ , not completely, because Crowley wouldn’t abandon him. If Aziraphale was sure of anything, it was that but Crowley will surely feel uncomfortable, avoid him or sleep for another century so he won’t have to look at Aziraphale. 

Instead of doing either of that, Crowley knocked on the door of the bookshop. Aziraphale knew it was him, he sensed Crowley before the demon even knocked but he was too distracted to pay attention and so the abrupt sound frightened him for a moment. Aziraphale buried his face back in his palms and considered to pretend he wasn’t there.

Crowley knocked softer. “Aziraphale, stop making a bigger fool of yourself than you already are.”

Right. Too late, Aziraphale thought when he got up and walked to the door because he may have been a fool but he wasn’t a coward. He opened and there he stood that flawless demon, his hair a little damp from the bit of rain they were exposed to. 

“I could’ve been asleep,” Aziraphale said, to poorly defend himself. 

“Shut up, you don’t sleep.” 

“I-”

“Whatever,” Crowley took a breath. “Angel... look. I panicked, okay? You surprised me but it wasn't nice of me to let you go. I'm sorry. Now, where were we?"

Crowley took a swift step in and ended up so much closer to Aziraphale than expected and the angel stepped back, raising his hands a bit. "Crowley, my dear…"

Crowley closed the door behind himself but didn't move any closer, minding Aziraphale's gesture. "Yes?" 

Aziraphale, who didn't have time to think his reply through and who didn't expect to talk to Crowley for another hundred years, was battling with his words. "I respect your feelings, first of all. A-and I'm sorry… _really_ sorry... that I acted upon mine in such a way."

Crowley took his glasses off. "Angel-"

"No, please just don't apologise for not feeling the same."

"I am not ap-"

"I shouldn't have assumed-"

"Oh for Hell's sake, Aziraphale, _shut up._ "

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, severely bothered by the number of times he’d been told to shut up on this particular day but he, of course, did not shut up. "I'm sorry."

The tone of Aziraphale's voice seemed to be the thing Crowley needed to hear to risk invading the angel's space and step closer. 

"Don't be," he whispered and when his fingers touched Aziraphale’s cheek, the angel closed his eyes. He more of wished than expected to feel Crowley's lips on his own but when it happened, Aziraphale who had kissed people before, who had kissed Crowley like an hour ago, was on the verge of discorporating. He held onto Crowley's jacket as if to keep the demon from disappearing and kissed him back as urgently as he felt it, causing Crowley to smile against his lips. Aziraphale’s head was spinning but at least his body acted on its own, wrapping arms around Crowley’s waist, keeping him close as if Crowley were the one to run away in the first place. Crowley broke the kiss with a soft laugh and allowed Aziraphale’s head to rest against his neck.

“You’re so stupid,” Crowley said, gently burying his fingers into Aziraphale’s white curls.

“It’s a match then,” Aziraphale replied, because Crowley deserved it, and held him tighter.

"And just how long have you been waiting to kiss me?" Crowley asked, spread cosily on Aziraphale’s couch, glancing at the angel seated on the other side, their legs all tangled. He didn't need an _actual_ answer as much as a reassurance that Aziraphale had been waiting. That he hadn't stolen a kiss from Crowley just to call it an experiment or a mistake.

"A while," Aziraphale paused, "a long while."

"Why didn't you?"

"Why didn't _you?_ "

Crowley flawlessly imitated the angel's voice, " _You go too fast for me, Crowley."_

"Oh good Lord, that's not what it… I simply… well, you… have been running around looking for holy water and you were so careless about yourself and I was already so attached and you-” Aziraphale gave up the attempt to turn those words into a coherent sentence, “you were going too fast."

Crowley’s expression softened. "I told you it wasn't a suicide pill."

"I wanted to believe you."

"But you didn’t,” Crowley noted, “and yet you gave it to me."

"I would give you anything, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied simply and without a second of hesitation, causing the statement to linger between them, “that’s no question.” 

Aziraphale lifted his gaze up and met Crowley’s eyes, catching them filled with fondness and yearning. Crowley shifted and reached for his sunglasses. He put them on, hiding from Aziraphale and making it look like the most random, unintentional act but it took more than that to fool someone who’s known you for six thousand years. 

Aziraphale didn’t mind it. “So how long have _you_ been waiting to kiss me, dear?”

“M... u-um, a while,” Crowley said, mind flashing back to Eden. “Any more questions? I’m getting sleepy.” 

“Yes, why are you so far away from me?”

Crowley smiled softly. “This is far?”

“Too far.”

Crowley moved up, freeing his legs and Aziraphale opened his arms to welcome him there, letting him lean his back against Aziraphale’s chest. “Close enough, angel?”

Crowley rested his head under Aziraphale’s shoulder and Aziraphale trapped him in a tight hug. Crowley could’ve decided to sleep for the said century and Aziraphale wouldn’t complain as long as he would do it in his arms. “Close enough, dear.” 

“Don’t wake me before noon,” Crowley said, with little to no care for the opening hours, “and decorate your damn shop, Jesus deserved to have his birthday celebrated.” 

Aziraphale chuckled but didn’t reply, allowing his best friend… boyfriend?... to peacefully fall asleep, which didn’t take a long time. He then gently took Crowley’s glasses off and set them on the table, slow and careful not to wake him. He silently watched as much of Crowley’s face as he could see and couldn’t believe he almost let it all go.

Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s head, shut his eyes and gently pressed his lips against the red hair. “May you always be safe.” 

Nobody on this world, or another, could’ve possibly been aware of the divine spell that wrapped around the sleeping demon at that moment, perhaps with the exception of the Almighty herself, because nobody would’ve believed that an angel had blessed a demon, least of all the angel.   
  
No one had the power to bless a fallen angel, no one except Aziraphale that had risked everything to save the world that witnessed the growth of his love for Crowley. Aziraphale that wanted to fight the Devil and would fight God too, for one mere chance of future with Crowley. That stubborn Aziraphale, braver than all worlds combined when he loved.   
  
And no demon had the tenderness to receive a blessing, none except the one that did not so much Fall as saunter vaguely downwards, the one that cared too much, the one that could’ve healed the world if only he’d been given a chance.

And so that rainy December night in central London, the only blessed demon slept in the arms of the only angel whose love could bless him - all well and all according to the Ineffable plan.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you are wondering, God did enter Aziraphale’s mind to ask him what the fuck has he done because She couldn’t believe that it took him 6000 years to kiss Crowley and then he ran.
> 
> To quote Oscar Wilde, it takes a great deal of courage to see the world in all its tainted glory, and still to love it. I admire Crowley and Aziraphale for that. I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Merry Christmas to everyone and Heddy especially <3


End file.
